White Horse
by OneShotFun
Summary: "Well, reality check—there was no such person as Prince Ezra." — Aria trashes Ezra's apartment, and every memory, after finding out he's A.


**"White Horse" by Taylor Swift**

_Say you're sorry_  
_That face of an angel_  
_Comes out just when you need it to_  
_As I paced back and forth all this time_  
_Cause I honestly believed in you_

_Holding on_  
_The days drag on_  
_Stupid girl,_  
_I should have known, I should have known_

_That I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale,_  
_I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet,_  
_Lead her up the stairwell_  
_This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town,_  
_I was a dreamer before you went and let me down,_  
_Now it's too late for you and your white horse to come around_

* * *

The wasted years. The wasted kisses. The wasted love. It was all a lie. And as Spencer did when she thought her beloved Toby was A, Aria Montgomery knew she was supposed to be in bed, crying rivers. But she wasn't. She knew she wouldn't get a fairytale ending like Spencer did when Prince Toby was a red herring. She wasn't getting that ending. She was stupid—she fell in love with someone who hated her, and she honestly believed that he loved her back. Well, reality check—there was no such person as Prince Ezra.

Was it weird that she didn't even care what his intentions were? There was no way in hell that he was going to be some good guy like Toby, things like that didn't happen to her. She believed that she had some kind of cinematic love story. She believed that she was a star-crossed lover! She thought they had some kind of Romeo & Juliet love story, but she knew she should have known better. Nobody ever got a love story like that. It was all just too good to be true.

She wasn't letting him win, though. Running into her bedroom and crying her heart out until Prince Charming came and told her that he was good? It wasn't going to happen to her. She had to face it—Spencer was just luckier than her. So, she wasn't going to cry. Crying wouldn't solve her problems. She wasn't going to be that stupid girl who fell for a trick anymore. She was going to be stronger than that. She wouldn't be the weakest link.

And that's why she was _there_. Apartment 3B, to be exact. Her fingers brushed against the wooden door. It was a door that had once been her entrance to Cloud Nine. It used to be her paradise, her getaway, even... But now? It was hell. It haunted her. It felt like a graveyard, where all her good memories had died and been buried away. This was a cemetery to her. To make things worse, those good memories weren't exactly looking _good_ when she thought about them. They were all just a ploy to push her away from knowing what her own boyfriend was really up to. Technically, he wasn't ever her boyfriend. Not if this was the true Ezra.

So she was going to get rid of the memories. Ever heard of destroying a cemetery?

"This," she began, even though she knew she was talking to no one, "is for being a _liar_."

She kicked his table until it collapsed on the floor, and made all the horded possessions fall off. Every single freaking one. The fragile photo frames cracked, but she didn't care, even if some of the photos were of herself... along with _him_. The lamp shattered. He would have to work his ass off to pay for all this damage, since he had always been short on money. Oh, but he would be fine, right?

After all, he had _two jobs_.

One, to be the cheesy and romantic high school English teacher that she fell in love with, and Two, to be the psycho stalker that made her life hell, and was probably after Alison, while hiding the whole thing behind his girlfriend's back. Yeah, he was pretty good at both jobs.

"This," she began, picking up his trophy from a poetry contest, "is for hurting my _best friends_."

And she swung the poetry trophy right into his television, where they used to watch black & white movies together. They cuddled up on his couch together, and they both enjoyed old movies. Sometimes, she would just fall asleep on his lap when it was super late. She could remember every breath, every word, every touch from many of those nights. How could all those moments be fake? It didn't seem possible. But then again, her life was different. She didn't live a regular life. Everything that happened in her life was far from normal.

She hoped he had a swell time paying for the damage to that expensive TV. Anyone who was watching the scene, which no one was, could have sworn that they heard her let out a laugh. But, it wasn't a laugh of joy and happiness, like she used to let out when he pressed kisses to her lips, it was a laugh of revenge. People were right—_revenge really is sweet_.

Jake had taught her well. Maybe he taught her to defend herself, but in reality, she _was _defending herself. Ezra was hurting her, and she was defending herself by showing him she's not some weak sap.

Grabbing every pillow from the couch they used to sit on together, she started to cry a little. No, no, she couldn't cry. Crying wouldn't help her feel better. Revenge would. Of course, there was nothing possible that she could do to truly avenge him for what he did to her, and all her friends, but mostly her. Trashing his apartment didn't even come close to the emotional damage he caused her. They were on completely different radars. Money could fix what she was doing, but it couldn't fix what he was doing.

She threw every pillow on the couch all over the place. She knocked the glass coffee table sideways so it shattered. She didn't care if his apartment neighbors came running into the room, dialing 911. Oh, the police couldn't do crap. If anything, she could get him arrested for the stalking of four, maybe five including Alison, teenage girls. She could even say he raped her, since he was a teacher. But she wouldn't do it, because she wasn't a heartless fiend like he was.

So it went on. She destroyed everything in her path. Every memory had to vanish.

Okay, maybe Ezra Fitz wasn't a prince, but she certainly wasn't a princess. If she _was_ a princess, she would have her Prince Charming. But she wasn't. Besides, princesses didn't destroy their ex-boyfriend's apartments.

Although there was no getting rid of the damage done, maybe she could survive. Maybe she didn't need him.

Maybe she would be alright.


End file.
